


Quid Pro Quo

by debwalsh



Series: Meadowville Memories [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Happy, Established Relationship, Gift Fic, Idiots in Love, M/M, Old Married Couple, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 22:28:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18838045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: Following the events of “Living Their Best Lives,” Bucky entertains a business proposal from one of his friends.  When it’s time to enlist Steve’s help, the boys get up to their usual antics.This is a gift fic for the lovely Chicklette, a thank you and what I hope will be a day brightener.





	Quid Pro Quo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chicklette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicklette/gifts).



> I seriously love writing in this universe. And as I see so much anger and pain swirling around in the fandom right now, I’m happy to play here. Expect more from these idiots.

Bucky pulled the tray of perfectly browned caramel apple croissants out of the oven gingerly, and inhaled the fragrant steam with his eyes closed.  “Mmm,” he murmured to himself in satisfaction.

They were a month into the opening of the bakery cafe portion of Barnes-Rogers, and he was still enjoying himself immensely.  He got to make delicious food for people he liked, try out new ideas and taste combinations, teach kids the wonders of flavors and patience, and do it all with his best friend in the world.  And then he got to take that best friend home and ride him til they both cried uncle. It was a perfect arrangement.

They were still finding the rhythm of things, learning how to plan their time, accept help, and let the young ones do what they needed to do - discover themselves, make mistakes, clean them up, and move on.  It was all a grand experiment and none of them knew what the outcome would be, just that the journey was full of wonder. And paper towels. Roll after roll of paper towels. Bucky was now experimenting with environmentally friendly, sustainable types of towels, and the kids were having a blast doing tests and taking notes on tensile strength, absorption, and more.

As Bucky carefully slid the croissants onto a wire rack to cool, he paused and considered a moment how satisfying, how joyful his life had become.  He smiled to himself and whispered, “Fuck you, Hydra.” Then he started to whistle a song he’d heard the day before, something one of the kids had chosen, dancing to his own tune as he set about washing blueberries for the strudel he was making for Steve.  Fucker loved his blueberries, and Bucky loved finding ways to doll them up for him. He also had a wicked sweet tooth, and Bucky loved feeding it.

They’d played around a bit with the feeding thing, incorporating it into their play, and they were finding it pretty satisfactory.  Neither of them needed to worry about gaining weight, so they could play freely whenever the spirit - and the baked goods - moved them.

Bucky was smiling at the memory of a recent session when there was a knock on the door to the shop, signaling an early morning visitor.  He dusted off his hands and hurried around the counter to check who’d come calling.

“Dot, sweetie!  Come on in!” he greeted, ushering her in with a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Bucky, doll, we miss you!” Dot replied, and stood on tiptoe to plant a smacker on his cheek in return.

Dot, like her husband Lou, was a spritely octogenarian, born before the war that had changed both Steve and Bucky’s lives so thoroughly.  She was as young as the kids interning in his shop, despite the smile lines wreathing her eyes.

And that smile was sly and knowing.

“Business is good, Dot.  Keeping me busy.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.  What is that amazing smell?” she changed the subject as she turned to follow her nose.

“Caramel apple croissants.  They’re very popular with the kids today,” he chuckled as she leaned against the counter and breathed deep over the cooling rack.

“Of course they are.  Oh my God, Bucky, you are doing the Lord’s work here.  And that’s why I wanted to catch you before you opened for the day.”

“Let me grab us both a couple of coffees, you snag us a couple of croissants, and we can have a little gabfest over in the sunbeam, huh?” Bucky suggested with a waggle of his eyebrows.  Dot giggled and scurried around the counter to grab a plate for the croissants while Bucky poured two large mugs of coffee. They met at a little table at the back of the cafe, bathed in early morning light that streamed through big plate glass window.

They settled themselves, each taking an orgasmic bite of their croissants, and then Bucky looked at Dot expectantly.  “So?”

“So, folks have been talking about how great your bakery is.  And it really is. But we miss having you around the diner. Lou was talking about taking a vacation, and we realized we don’t have anyone who can look after the place now you’ve got your own.”

“Who says?”

“Everybody.  We’re competitors now,” she shrugged.

“We are?”

“Aren’t we?”

“Do we have to be?”

“See, that’s what I thought.  But people are assuming we’re competing, so they have to take sides.  So I had an idea. You, me, the roadhouse, Angelina’s, the VFW. We make up a restaurant loop.”

“A what?”

“I dunno, we can call it something else, but I was thinking instead of acting like competitors, we act like partners.  We all do something a little different from everybody else, and folks are better off having choices. It’s boring to go out to eat at the same place all the time.  So, we encourage people to try us all, and know that it’s okay. That nobody has to pick a favorite or take a side.”

“What, like a loyalty program?”

“Well, that might be good, too.  But I was thinking that we each take a dish or something that’s special, and hand it off to the next guy.  So that blueberry pie of mine that Steve inhales? I was thinking ... it becomes a Barnes-Rogers exclusive.  I make it, but folks can only get it here.’

“Which means no one gets it, ‘cos Steve’ll eat ‘em all.”

“That boy needs to learn moderation.  Anyway, in exchange, you make something that I get to feature in the diner.  Like these croissants - only maybe with toasted pecans, you know? Give ‘em a little crunch.  And everybody in the loop does the same. So we each end up making four things for the others, and we each get four things from the others.”

“That’s kind of a crazy idea, but it sounds like fun.”

“I like the idea of a loyalty program, too.  Maybe we can convince Steve to make us a card that people use, and they get a punch or stamp each time they eat at one of our places.  The cards could be collectible,” she added slyly, taking a sip of her coffee. “Think you can work your magic on that man of yours?”

“Please, bitch.  That’s the hubs you’re talking about.  I won’t even have to ask - all I have to do is say it’s an idea to help, and he’ll be tripping over himself to come up with something amazing.  What, you thought I only loved him for his big di-“

“That the way you talk to a nice old lady?” Dot interrupted him with a cackle.  Like they didn’t gossip about their husbands’ prowess and particulars on the regular.

“Don’t know any.  So what’s this about vacation.  When do you need me?”

“Can you spare the time?”

“Oh, let me tell you about the gang.  Our friends from the Avengers? When they’re not on a mission, they pitch in.  And we’re doing cooking classes for the kids. Oh. That’s something else we could all do.”

“What?”

“Cooking classes.  Each of us does a different kind of cooking - we’ve been doing baking and cafe type cooking classes, but you could do more substantial fare, Angelina’s could do pasta and other Italian dishes, the roadhouse could do grilling and such, and the VFW ... well, the VFW could do catering type cooking.  We train the next generation, Dot. We show them how to do the job, and then -“

“Everyone’s got a talent pool to hire, and the kids have a trade. Ooh, I like that.  Shit, we should talk to the high school, see if we can get ‘em credit -“

“Already done.  At least my crew.  But if we could get all the eateries involved, that would give them all a more rounded approach -“

“Okay, we need to have a meeting, all five of us.  War council!”

“I’ll bring cupcakes.”

“Bring something savory.  We’ll do this at the roadhouse so Mama can have a beer.”

“Bacon-gruyere breadsticks it is, then.”

&&&

“So, what?  Like trading cards?”

Over dinner that night, Bucky explained what he and Dot had discussed that morning, elaborating and embellishing with ideas that had struck throughout the day.  He and Dot had been texting constantly, and she was waiting on a report on Steve’s reaction in the morning. She knew better than to expect one tonight. It was even more unlikely since they hadn’t seen each other all day, not since Bucky dragged his ass out of bed early to start the baking, and Steve had slept in.  Steve hadn’t been in the bookstore all day since he had classes at the senior center, and then a lecture thing on World War II at the community college.

It had been both an exciting day of ideas, and a weird day of no Steve.  It was all Bucky could do not to climb his man like a tree as soon as he came through the door.

But for now, Bucky was trying to behave like a responsible adult while pitching an idea to his talented husband.  And said husband just made a suggestion that rocketed to the top of Bucky’s “I want that!” list. 

“Oh.  I like that.  Yeah. Yeah, one side has places for all the stamps.  But the other - collectible Steve Rogers art. How many pieces do you think you can do?”

“I dunno, how soon do you need ‘em?  And why just me?”

“Huh?”

“Buck, I teach art glasses at the senior center, remember?  That’s where I was today. And we got kids coming into the bookstore for lessons.  Adults, too. Not to mention the art classes in the school. Why not make the whole thing a community effort?  I can draw up a template, and let people have some fun with it. We can pick themes, even, so there’s groupings of cards.  I can have my students design posters, too. The folks at the center. We can have a competition. Or no - we’ll have each of the designs printed up, and we’ll ask all the businesses to put one of the designs in their window or wherever they have a place to post stuff.”

“I like the way you think,” Bucky said then, giving up on adulting and giving in to his need to reduce the space between them to nothing.  He’d already cleared the table and the dishes were soaking. He’d adulted enough for one night. He got up to straddle Steve’s lap and put his arms around Steve’s neck.  He leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose, just as Steve’s hands settled on his hips, nudging him closer.

“You’re really having fun with this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.  I love our life.  I’m so happy with the choices we’ve made, the life we’ve created for ourselves here.  But the bookstore and bakery cafe ... I never expected it would have so many ripples, y’know?  So many ways we’d change this town. For the better. I feel ... I feel like I have a chance to really make a difference.  Really make amends.”

“Buck.  We’ve talked about that -“

“And I know.  I know I’m not to blame for what Hydra made me do.  But don’t you see? This, being happy, making other people happy - it’s the best fuck you to Hydra I could ever hope for.  And you know I say that every day, right?”

“What?”

“‘Fuck you, Hydra’.  I say it every day now, it’s like my mantra.  I’m happy, Steve. I’m crazy in love with this dumbass punk, and he makes me so goddamned happy I don’t even know how to say it.  And I love our friends, super and not. I love this town and how much they don’t give two fucks that you were freeze-dried and I was a murder-bot.  I love our dancing friends, and my Ladies, and the bookstore, and my bakery, and Barton making impossibly wonderful stuff even when he almost blows up the coffeemaker every day he’s in town.”

Steve was laughing now, his face pressed against Bucky’s chest as Bucky gesticulated around him.  His hands had drifted to the small of Bucky’s back, where he flattened them, holding him tight.

Bucky threaded his fingers through Steve’s hair and gave a little tug to bring his face up so Bucky could cradle it gently.  “I love our life, Steve. I love you. And I kinda feel like that love is just spilling over, y’know?”

“What, like rainbow sprinkles?”

“Don’t mock the rainbow.  We are bisexual, after all.  We should do something special for Pride month.”

“Gotta feeling you’re gonna have me doing something special every damned month.”

“And why not?  Every day we’re together is special.  Why not share that?”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, smiling up at Bucky with so much love in his eyes that Bucky felt it was impossible to contain it all.  “I love our life, too. And I love you.”

Bucky leaned down to kiss Steve then, soft, gentle, but it didn’t take long for heat to rise, for their kisses to gain more intent.  Finally Bucky pulled back, panting slightly. “Howsabout you show me, big guy?” he whispered, smirking fondly at this big man with the bigger heart who’d stolen his.

Steve’s smile in return was all the encouragement he needed.

&&&

The following morning, Bucky provided Dot with an edited account of Steve’s enthusiastic consent.  She might be salty and fun, but she didn’t need a play by play - and Bucky wasn’t willing to share anyway.

They organized a meeting at the roadhouse to introduce the idea to the others, and within two weeks, all the exchanges had been worked out, the first wave cards had been printed, and the fun really began.  The local residents took to the plan, and people stopped acting like there was some kind of unseen war among their favorite eateries. 

Bucky managed the diner during Dot and Lou’s vacation, and Nat managed the bakery cafe while Barton took over as head baker for the week.  Miraculously, the building survived, and they had the opportunity to confirm the smoke detectors worked.

Life was good.

END

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Let’s all put some smiles out into the world today, okay? This is mine.


End file.
